


Eve's Curse

by CynicalRainbows



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Periods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalRainbows/pseuds/CynicalRainbows
Summary: In which Cathy helps Kitty out with one of the more painful parts of womanhood.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 131





	Eve's Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, comments please!  
> This was meant to be all fluff and ended up surprisingly angsty- but hopefully still fluffy enough to pass muster...

She’s halfway to the stairs, empty coffee cup in hand, when she catches the sound of muffled sobbing coming from the bathroom.

She hesitates on the top step- pretend not to have heard and give whoever it is a chance to pull themselves together and pretend All Is Well or interrupt and potentially risk getting herself mixed up in something she isn’t able to handle?

She’s the first to admit it- she’s not the best at giving comfort out of the six of them, no one would ever mistake her for the Mum-Friend.

She’s too awkward, too hesitant.

No, that title- rightfully- belongs to Jane, who not only has apparently found a way to bend the laws of physics in order to fit everything that anyone might conceivably need into her smallish handbag (Cathy has seen her pull out tissues AND aspirin AND water AND plasters AND gum AND a hairbrush AND tampons AND tweezers AND anti-hayfever medication out of her bag at a moments notice, and the mystery is further compounded by the fact that none of the other queens ever have caught Jane actually replenishing her bountiful supplies.)

In addition to being Keeper Of All Things, Jane also seems to have an almost spooky sixth-sense for knowing when she is needed, often just….appearing at the bedroom door of whichever queen is struggling, armed with chocolate and tea and sympathy, whether the issue is a persistent migraine (Aragon), a hangover (Anna) or social-media induced blues (Anne, who isn’t allowed to read their youtube comments anymore).

Jane though is out. Aragon too- who, in Jane’s absence, can usually be relied on to step in with advice and cups of green tea- is not around. 

Come to think of it, Anna did say something about going to the gym over breakfast…. 

That left Anne- who Cathy knows generally prefers to hide her tears behind thumpingly-loud music and/or a shower running on full rather than behind a simple door….and Kitty.

_ Oh god. _

Reluctantly, Cathy finds herself retracing her steps until she’s right in front of the door.

Of course she can’t go back downstairs if it’s Kitty. Not that she’s even fully sure she believes in hell anymore (something she has neglected to mention to Catalina and fully plans to emphatically deny if her godmother ever catches wind of it) but she’s absolutely certain that willfully leaving Kitty alone and in distress is the sort of thing that would be sure to forever condemn you to the darkest, deepest, scariest level of it.

(Also, the other queens would kill her if they found out: Jane might be first but Anna, she knows, wouldn't be far behind.)

She raises her hand to knock and then pulls it back.

_ Just do it.  _

She can’t.

And it’s not that she doesn’t want to help Kitty, it’s not that she doesn’t care- she’s just scared to death.

She knows, after all, how much the youngest queen has been through- out of all of them, only she and Anna were actually there to hear, first-hand, the gossip that set half of London into a flurry of excitement as the other half bit their lips to keep from commenting: the King’s pretty new wife, the ex maid-in-waiting. 

_ Just like that Bullen girl, _ some said- some doubtfully, others gleefully. 

_ Young though, isn’t she?  _ It was said with a smirk at first, with barely concealed concern later.

_ She looks like a child beside him- _

_ They say he can’t keep his hands off her- _

_ They say she’s looking ever so pale- _

_ They say the King is angry- _

_ They say she’s been meeting secretly with one of the King's men- _

_ They say she’ll be sent to a nunnery- _

_ They say she was pre-contracted- _

And then, suddenly:  _ She’s dead. Beheaded. _

And that time, it was not gossip or open to speculation but sad, bleak, unalterable fact.

And still the rumours kept spreading: 

_ They say she cried as she was being led to the scaffold-  _ and  _ They say she begged the King to spare her family- _ and, more and more often now,  _ so young, so very young. _

It makes Cathy afraid to even talk to the girl- she only has to look at her to feel the crushing weight of years of guilt, and even as she reminds herself that she really had no more choice in the marriage than Kitty did herself, it doesn’t help much. She after all survived. That makes a difference.

It’s why she shies away not just from Kitty but from all of them- Anna, she’s sure, must secretly blame her for Kitty’s fate, and if she does, wouldn’t Anne feel the same? Jane, she’s sure, must also find herself looking askance at the woman who came directly after to marry the man who had her now-surrogate-daughter was killed. Even Catalina, who she feels closest to, probably finds it a bit odd that her own goddaughter went on to marry her husband.

The thoughts keep her a little isolated, a little lonely. It’s not awful or anything, just a bit solitary from time to time.

It’s ok though. Last to marry a notorious wife-killer, she’s used to people being uncomfortable around her.

  
  


True, Kitty doesn’t seem to hold anything against her.

She’s a little hesitant, a little shy- it took her days to talk around any of them in anything louder than a whisper, over a week before she was able to speak without being spoken to- but she still offers shy smiles across the stage when Cathy catches her eye mid-rehearsal. 

She remembers that she likes her coffee with cinnamon instead of sugar, and when it’s Cathy’s turn to wash up, sometimes she’ll look up and find she has a pink-haired shadow, drying the cups and plates and putting them away.

If anything, this makes it  _ worse _ , the fact that she is confronted every day with this sweet, kind girl and forced to remember the awful things that were done to her.

It’s why she’s stuck outside the bathroom door, not even able to knock- what if she tries to help Kitty and she gets it  _ wrong _ ? What if she somehow makes things  _ worse _ ?

She isn’t sure she’d be able to live with herself.

Then Kitty gives a particularly sad sounding whimper and she realises that she definitely won’t be able to live with herself if she doesn’t do  _ something. _

‘Kitty?’

The whimpering chokes off and is replaced by silence.

‘Kitty, are you alright?’

Stupid question. As if crying in the bathroom had ever been considered a sign of ‘being alright’.

‘I’m- fine.’

Her voice is wavery. Cathy is at a bit of a loss.

‘Can I come in?’

‘No!’ Kitty’s voice is panicked and then hesitant. ‘I mean- yes of course, just…. I mean, not right now...please?’

‘Um….ok’ She feels out of her depth already- she doesn’t know whether to insist or to leave Kitty be like she’s requested. 

She tries another tack.

‘Can I get you anything? You don’t have to let me in but if you need anything I could….bring it to you.’ Even her own words sound insubstantial as she trails off- what exactly could Kitty need that she could bring? A book about surviving one's own beheading? 

‘N- no. It’s ok. You don’t have to. I didn’t want to bother anyone else-’

‘Are you sure?’ She really really wishes they could be having this conversation face to face and feels a sudden pang of sympathy for Catalina for all the times that she’s surrendered to her own demons and made the woman carry out a mostly-one-sided conversation with a locked door. ‘Honestly, Kitty I just want to help. It’s not a bother at all- I’ll get you anything you need-’

She’s surprised when it actually elicits a response- there’s a scuffle, the door opens a tiny bit and a tear-stained Kitty appears in the crack.

‘Do you-’ She twists her fingers anxiously. ‘Do you…..know how to get blood out of stuff?’

There’s a second where she’s confused by the question, before her mind clears and she realises that by stuff, Kitty probably means clothes. 

‘....yes’ She’s trying not to panic- is she hurt? Is something very wrong? Why oh why did Jane and Aragon both have to go out at the same time?- and then she sees Kitty wince and press her hands to her abdomen and her shoulders sink in relief.

‘ _ Oh _ .’

Kitty doesn’t look anywhere near as relieved- a tear slides down her cheek and Cathy feels her heart squeeze. The poor thing looks so young-

‘Hey-’ She steps forward and gently opens the door wider so that she can wrap an arm around the girls shoulders. She’s practically holding her breath as she does- what if Kitty pushes her away, what if she slams the door on her- but she lets her. Cathy could swear she actually leans into her touch a tiny bit. 

‘It’s ok, I know how much they can hurt but it’ll be over soon- I’ll get you a hot water bottle and some painkillers, that’ll help-’

She’s mentally rejoicing over the fact that the gathering of these items is a physical action she can actually do when Kitty’s voice breaks.

‘- I don’t know what I did  _ wrong-’ _

‘Sorry?’

‘I must have done something and I just-’

‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’ God knows Kitty wouldn’t be the only one to misjudge monthly timings in a way that resulted in unexpected laundry. ‘Sometimes it just takes you by surprise and-’

‘But I was so careful!’ It’s almost a wail and it takes Cathy aback. ‘I didn’t do anything this time round, I was so, so careful… I don’t want it all to happen again Cathy!’

‘Hold on-’ Clearly she has missed a couple of jumps in logic here- she steers Kitty back inside the bathroom, sits her down on the edge of the bathtub and kneels down in front of her while Kitty sniffles. ‘What do you mean by  _ not doing anything _ ? It’s just your period, you can’t control it-’

‘I must have done something to make it come-’ Kitty looks at her with red-rimmed eyes. ‘I know that it was my fault before, I know I shouldn’t have let him….touch me but he was so angry, Cathy! He said he’d be ill if i didn’t, he said I led him on-’ she starts to cry, quietly, hunching forward. ‘And then it came- when my step grandmother saw the blood...she said it showed I was a woman, that I must have been doing things I shouldn’t- I wasn’t a girl anymore- Cathy, I haven’t done anything this time, I swear it, I just….don’t know how it happened-’

Cathy’s mind is reeling and for a moment, all she can do is reach out mutely and pull the weeping girl into her arms. She isn’t quite sure what to say, how to begin- anger and indignation and sadness all battle in her mind- and she’s sure there’s a right thing to say, if only she can think of it.

‘Oh Kitty-’

‘I know- oh Cathy, please don’t tell the others, I don’t want them to know I-’ Her face contorts with a sob. ‘ _ Please  _ don’t tell Jane-’

There’s so much Cathy wants to say- wise, sensible, non-judgemental things, the sort of things that Jane or Catalina would say, but instead what comes out is: ‘Your grandmother told you it was  _ your _ fault? What an absolute bitch!’

‘Step grandmother-’ Kitty flinches a bit in her arms at her vehemence and Cathy has to reign herself in, gently rubbing small circles over Kitty’s shoulders until she relaxes again.

‘Sorry, just…’ She’s fumbling for the words that will make everything better, when really what she wants to do is scoop this poor girl up into her arms and keep her safe from all of the terrible lies people are clearly so intent on telling her. ‘Kitty, you know you didn’t do anything wrong, right? You didn’t make anything happen?’

_ Stupid, stupid.  _ Of course, she knows, if Kitty knew that, they wouldn;’t be having this conversation.

‘What do you mean? Of course I did. I mean, I know he shouldn’t have either but something had to have triggered it so-’

‘No!’ Cathy finds she’s actually raising her voice a bit. ‘You didn’t do  _ anything,  _ you-’ She forces her voice soft and instinctively takes Kitty’s hands in her own. ‘Kitty, getting your period is nothing to do with what you’ve done or said or- or anything.’

‘But-’

‘Listen to me. It’s nothing to do with anything. Back then- you would have gotten it anyway. And now- honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t come sooner but sometimes stress can-’ She’s getting off topic. ‘Just….it’s nothing to do with doing anything wrong. It’s just biology.’

‘It’s Eve’s curse though, it’s a punishment-?’ She says it as if it’s fact but there’s the hint of a question in it, a tiny spark of raw, naked hope in Kitty’s woebegone face that’s breaking Cathy’s heart.

‘No, Kitty. It’s just how the woman’s body works- trust me, I’ve researched all of it. People today- they know about these things, they know SO much more than we did back then, they know things we didn’t even  _ think _ to question…’  _ Whoops. _ Off topic again. 

_ Hold back the rant Cathy, the poor girl can hear your thoughts on all this at another point. Ideally one where she isn’t in tears and bleeding. _

Kitty’s looking at her, half hopeful, half unsure and she realises she’s going to need to explain things a bit better.

‘Ok. What did your step grandmother tell you when you were younger?’

‘That it meant I was becoming a woman- I was opening myself up to Eve’s sin.’

Cathy grits her teeth. ‘What else?’

‘That I could have babies now. And that I’d brought it on myself so I wasn't to go whining about the place looking for sympathy because the pain was punishment.’

She’s never in her life wanted to throttle an old woman more.

‘So- she was sort of right…. Not about the pain bit. Look, you know when women get pregnant, the baby grows in the womb?’

Kitty nods.

Every month, the womb readies itself for a baby. When there isn’t a baby, it sort of….clears itself and begins again. That’s why it hurts- your womb, your uterus is sort of ripping everything out. That’s why you bleed. Not because it’s a punishment.’

‘But….if I did something to trigger it-’

‘Kitty.’ Cathy looks at her unblinkingly, trying to put as much gravity behind her words as she can, praying they’ll sink in. ‘Listen. There is no one single thing you could have done or not done that would have made the slightest bit of difference, ok? Not a thing. It’s the same for all of us- you can ask any of us, it’s always the same. Nothing to do with you. You haven’t done anything wrong now and you didn’t do anything wrong then, ok?’

She watches until Kitty gives a tremulous nod of assent.

‘Good.’

There’s a moment of silence, and then Kitty wearily brushes at her still-teary eyes and sniffles. ‘I feel really stupid. You must think I’m an idiot-’ 

‘No! It’s not your fault!’ Cathy can’t bear the idea that Kitty is blaming herself again- the poor girl sounds so sad and broken down. ‘How were you meant to know different? I wasn’t telling you to make you feel silly, you know that right? Just...I didn’t want you to feel guilty for something that wasn’t your fault. You don’t deserve that.’

_ Please, please know I didn’t mean it badly- _

Kitty sighs and nods resignedly. She looks suddenly very tired. ‘- thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. Now-’ It occurs to her that while the emotional side of things might be mostly-sorted for now, there’s still some things to take care of. ‘Here’s what we’ll do-’

It’s a shock to hear herself taking charge in such a way- she sounds like Jane, talking one or another of them through a crisis, all soothing and in control. Not her own awkward self at all. ‘I’m going to run you a hot bath- it’ll help with the cramps- and I’ll sort out your clothes and get you some pads-’

‘I don’t have any-’

‘Oh there’s always some in the bathroom cabinet.’ She rummages into its innermost recesses til she finds what she’s looking for. ‘We’ll get you some of your own too, of course. But you can always borrow from any of us in future, if you run out, ok?’

‘....ok.’

She stands Kitty up and starts turning on the taps. ‘Leave your clothes outside the bathroom door, and I’ll bring you some new stuff-’

‘You don’t have to wash my clothes-’ 

Kitty looks absolutely mortified and Cathy wonders why for a second- of course she’s not going to judge her- before remembering how she herself had fiercely resisted Catalina taking care of her when she’d come down with flu, how Anne had limped miserably on a sprained ankle for a whole rehearsal before admitting it to anyone. It’s not just Kitty- they’re all getting used to being vulnerable with one another.

‘I absolutely don’t mind-’ Then she stops herself. The last thing Kitty needs is another person ignoring what she wants. ‘-but if you’d rather, I could wait and show you how to do it yourself?’

Kitty nods acquiescence, smiling shyly, and Cathy smiles back. She feels a flicker of pride- she might not have reacted exactly as Jane would have (she’s sure Jane’s method wouldn’t have involved calling anyone a bitch)...but she’s managed to make Kitty smile. 

That’s enough for now.

‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

*

Kitty’s flushed from the heat of the bath when she joins Cathy downstairs, clutching a small bundle, and her eyes are still a bit swollen but she looks more like herself.

She takes the painkillers that Cathy’s laid out for her gratefully, and listens attentively as Cathy explains the science behind cold rather than hot water and how long to let things soak before they can go into the machine.

When she’s finished putting the stained clothes to soak, they both stand awkwardly for a second. Cathy wonders if it’s her cue to leave- should she leave Kitty alone now? Has she had enough of her? Will they both disappear to separate rooms and go back to smiling rather than talking?

The thought makes her feel oddly lonely.

Kitty breaks the silence first.

‘So...I’ve probably taken up enough of your day now-’ She keeps her eyes on her bare feet and so Cathy finds herself looking at the floor too- the pink polish that Cathy remembers Anne applying the week before on the white living room rug has chipped a bit and it’s suddenly much, much more important than looking at Kitty’s face.

‘No-’

‘You’ve probably got things you wanted to do-’

‘Well-’ She’s about to agree and back off like she usually does, letting Kitty be free of her like she probably hopes she will…. But then, she decides to be brave. There’s a chance, after all, that Kitty is only saying that to give Cathy herself an out- She can almost hear Catalina’s voice in her head:  _ You have to give people a chance, mija _ .

‘I was going to watch tv for a bit…’

Kitty bites her lip. ‘Oh- well, have fun-’

She can’t believe Kitty’s actually making her say it- she wants to complain that it isn’t fair.  _ You can’t have two socially awkward people in one conversation- nothing gets done! _

Still- it occurs to her that she’s actually been dealing rather well with things up until now, evidence being that Kitty’s no longer crying and doesn’t seem to be in pain anymore (although she supposes that’s more to the credit of the painkillers than to her). 

Still- the point is, she’s done ok. Maybe she can carry on doing ok?

She takes a quick breath, already steeling herself for Kitty to turn her down. 

_ What if she doesn’t actually want to, what if she feels like she has to say yes out of pity? _

‘Do you want to watch with me?’

Kitty hesitates.

‘It’s ok if you don’t want to-’

For a second, she can almost hear Kitty doing the same internal pep talk Cathy has just given herself- and then she smiles widely.

‘I’d like to, if you’re sure you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not!’

They’re settling themselves onto the living room sofa (for once, being able to do so without having to negotiate for space with at least two other people as is usually the case) when Kitty’s hand finds Cathy’s and squeezes it.

‘Thank you. For being so nice.’

It’s not exactly poetry, but Cathy can’t stop herself from smiling.

‘Thank you….for letting me help.’

Kitty smiles awkwardly and Cathy grabs the remote from the floor. ‘So. What do you feel like watching?’

*

They flick through a few channels until Kitty squeaks in excitement at a show which apparently involves cross women choosing wedding dresses.

(Cathy privately thinks this sounds like a stupid idea of a program but decides she’ll go along with it. For Kitty’s sake.)

*

(An hour later, she realises how hubristically, foolishly wrong she was ever to doubt the genius of such a show and makes a mental note to ask why no one told her that it existed before.)

Beside her, Kitty laughs at her interest and then winces again.

‘You like it! You- ow Ow!’ 

‘Oh you poor thing- is it bad?’

Kitty whimpers, clutching at the hem of Cathy’s flannel shirt in one hand. ‘I thought it had stopped- the cramps, I mean-’

Cathy shakes her head ruefully. ‘They do trick you like that… it’s a bit too soon for you to take anything else but I have an idea-’

‘Like what?’

She smiles. ‘Wait and see.’

*

She’s not sure if it’s the hot water bottle or the mug of hot chocolate, topped with a small mountain of whipped cream and studded with chocolate drops, that makes the difference, but after a couple of minutes, Kitty relaxes again and unfolds from the curled up position she’d assumed. 

Somehow, her head has ended up in Cathy’s lap, but she doesn’t move. 

And Cathy, playing with the bright pink tips of her ponytail, finds she doesn’t mind either (she wonders if one can get the same endorphins from stroking Kitty’s hair as one does from stroking an actual cat.)

‘Better?’

‘Mm-hmm.’

‘Good.’

‘Cathy?’

‘Yes?’

Kitty twists around and sits up a bit.

‘You know….if you ever need anything…?’

‘Yes?’

‘.....you know, you can come to me….right? I’d help, if I could.’

She actually thinks Kitty means it.

‘I know.’ 

She resumes her petting of Kitty’s hair, who lays her head back down and sighs contentedly.

‘Cathy?’

‘Hmm?’

‘This is really nice.’

‘.....it is.’  _ It is. It really, really is. _

‘Can we...maybe do this again some time? If- if you wanted to?’

Her heart leaps but she keeps it under wraps.

‘Sure Kitty.’

(Still, she can’t stop herself smiling.)


End file.
